


The Power That's Inside

by goodnightfern (orphan_account)



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Pokemon GO - Freeform, Post S11, Yes i have screwed with the timeline but i have ascended past the limitations of fanfiction, quickfic, this might be a crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:21:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7669885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/goodnightfern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Dean wanted was a cup of coffee, and instead he found a giant yellow rat in the kitchen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Power That's Inside

**Author's Note:**

> don't ask.
> 
> I guess this takes place post s11, but without Mary because she hasn't shown up in the series yet and frankly, I wanted to keep this dumb and silly.
> 
> Yes it was ridiculous that Cas never talked to God but I'm rolling with it I dont care I've headcanoned that Cas was just all out of fucks

All Dean wants is a coffee.

If only the damn coffeemaker would turn on.

The thing about living in a place that hasn't been updated since the fifties is... well. It hasn't been updated since the fifties. He tries the toaster - no dice. Seems every outlet in the kitchen has decided to take a shit. Dean has a book from the Wichita library that's supposed to teach him about wiring for the home, but he really doesn't feel like breaking apart an outlet before his caffeine, or at least a beer, so he's just about to give up on the dead coffeemaker and see if they have any instant coffee when a rat scurries out from somewhere.

It has to be a rat. Except rats don't come in bright yellow and they aren't the size of a loaf of bread and they don't have little zig-zag tails and they don't squeak like that. Dean automatically reaches for his waist but he's still in his bathrobe and boxers and his guns are back in the room. So he grabs a kitchen knife and points it at the rat, who has somehow leaped up to the counter.

The rat sits up on his hind legs and raises his paws. "Pika, piiika!"

"What the hell?"

"Chuuu," the rat says soothingly, and scurries to the coffeemaker. "Pika?"

"You got five seconds to explain yourself before you get this," Dean grouses, wielding the knife.

"Pikaaa." The rat rests his paws on the coffeemaker, and boom. Dean jumps back, shielding his eyes against the ensuing burst of sparks. But when he opens them again, the coffeemaker is working, and the rat is sitting up looking all proud of himself.

"I'm fucking dreaming," says Dean.

On all fours now, the rat actually smiles up at him. The knife still raised high, Dean watches it leap down, scurry out of the kitchen, and down the halls of the bunker. As the coffeemaker hums and bubbles, Dean stands frozen for a moment, then sprints after it roaring for Sam.

Sam thinks he's lost it.

There's no sign of the rat.

But the damn coffeemaker is working again, so that's hard evidence. "On my car, Sam. It was right here."

"Yeah, sure. You saw Pikachu in the bunker."

"A whassat?"

"A pikachu. Pokemon? Pocket monsters? That cartoon?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"All those random schools we went to you and you never saw the kids playing Pokemon?"

"I wasn't paying attention to the other kids!"

"Move your ass," Sam says. "You're blocking the coffee machine."

Dean is ready to spend the rest of his life searching the bunker top to bottom for the rat. He doesn't even bother to get dressed - all he needs is a gun and a flashlight. He's down on his knees, searching under every chair in the bunker when Cas finally wakes up.

"Good morning, Dean."

"Help me out," Dean tells him. "We're looking for a weird yellow rat. If you see it, kill it."

"Oh. Okay."

But Cas isn't doing anything of the sort. Dean gets up on his knees and turns around to glare at him. There's a little dog on Cas's shoulder, kneading its paws into the loose t-shirt Cas slept in. Maybe it's more of a cat. Or a fox. Whatever it is, it's ears are way too big for it, and it's got a white ruff around it's neck. "Vee," the thing purrs, and Cas just keeps stroking its head. 

"God damn it," says Dean. 

"Isn't she sweet? I woke up and she was sleeping on your pillow." 

"And you didn't kill it on sight?"

"Her name is Eevee," Cas says, sounding for all the world like a proud parent. "Vee? Eevee." 

"Veeee?" The thing perks up her ears, poof of a tail waving.

"Veee," Cas agrees.

"Are you talking to it?"

Cas just rolls his eyes. "Eee," he whispers, and the... _Eevee_ twitches, giggling in a way no normal animal should giggle. Of course Cas has whatever angelic mojo going on and can talk to the damn thing. Dean shakes his head. Fuck his life.

"If you can talk to it, ask it what the fuck it is and what the hell it's doing in my bunker."

"She's a Pokemon. And... she isn't quite sure. She just woke up here."

"Okay, and how the hell do we kill a Pokemon?"

"Pokemon don't die. They just faint," Cas says, and before Dean can ask him what the fuck he's on Sam rushes in, wild-haired and shouting with a big red-and-white ball in his hand. 

"Slow down," Dean snaps. "You caught a what?"

"A Pikachu!"

"You got the rat?" 

"Yeah! Check it out. I just found all of these pokeballs in my closet." Sam waves the ball in Dean's face like he's supposed to know what to do with it. "He's in here!" 

Dean looks between his partner and his brother and wonders what horrific supernatural entity has locked him into this sick fever dream, because there is no way this is real. 

"Can I see him?" Cas asks, and Sam pushes a button on the ball. 

There's a flash of red light, and that little rat is there again, sitting up and squeaking his name. 

Forget the coffee. What Dean really needs is a drink. He needs to go for a drive and get some beers and when he comes back everything will be back to normal. On the way to the liquor-and-guns store, he nearly hits a giant dancing tulip with legs. 

According to Sam, that was a Bellsprout. Turns out when Sam was a kid, he used to pick up on the cartoon on motel television all those times he was stuck in the room while Dad and Dean were on hunts. Sam's a Pokemon expert.

Seriously. Fuck Dean's life entirely.

"It's probably some kind of trickster," Sam says. Sitting on the floor of the library, he's cuddling Cas's Eevee while Pikachu plays with Cas's dark mess of hair. "Or, I dunno. Someone granted some child's wish. Whatever it is, I don't think there's much to worry about. There's nothing really malicious about Pokemon. Even the ghost-types just like to make people laugh."

Dean looms over them both with his beer in his hand, glaring down at Pikachu. Pikachu doesn't even seem bothered. "Oh, so what, there's ghost Pokemon?" 

"Ghost types," Sam corrects.

"We should probably find out who is behind this," Cas says. "Whoever they are, they're certainly powerful." 

"I just can't believe-" Sam starts, but Eevee's tail tickles his nose and makes him sneeze. "I can't believe someone made Pokemon real."

"Pika pika!" 

"Veee!" 

"Sit down, Dean," Cas says, patting the floor, and... fuck it. He can't say no to Cas. "You can pet him if you like. Please don't shock him, Pikachu."

"Kaaa," Pikachu says, giving Dean an appraising glance.

Dean snorts at it. "Right back atcha." When he raises a cautious finger, Pikachu sniffs it. He's actually pretty soft. Warm, too, thrumming with latent electric currents. Maybe Pikachu can fix all of the messed-up ancient wiring in this bunker. Earn his keep. 

But first, they've got a new case.

Zanna don't have this kind of power. And Gabe is dead - actually dead. But there's a whole army of tricksters and reality-bending gods who could be behind this. Could even be Jesse, that antichrist kid, not that they have a way to contact him. They really dropped the ball on that one.

"Hold on a second," Sam says from behind his laptop. "I think I just figured out why this is happening."  There's page after page of Pokemon Go-related news. Someone found a body playing. Someone else got hit by a car. But the news is overwhelmingly positive, stories of unlikely friendships and neighborhood parties and apparently if they go to Red Robin right now and show off their Pokedex, they'll get fifteen percent off their order. 

"So it's some kind of phone game?" Cas peers at the screen. "But you actually have to walk around and interact with other people to play."

"Augmented reality. This is so cool. Shit. I think I heard about this, like, two years ago? But I didn't know it had already happened." Sam frowns, scrolling through his phone. "Wow. The app has over fifty million downloads already." Eevee bats at the screen with a paw. "This could be some kind of a tulpa thing, maybe? Everyone desperately wants Pokemon to be real, and now... they are?"

"Let's think about this," Dean says. "Who do we know who has infinite power, is a fucking nerd, and likes cute shit on the internet?"

Cas shakes his head. "No. Not him."

"I'm not asking you to talk to him."

"And I'm not going to." Scooping up Eevee, Cas strokes her ruff. 

"Do you mind if we...?"

"Go ahead. I don't care." Cas stalks off with Eevee back towards their bedroom. Sam and Dean exchange looks. Yeah, that's a real barrel of fun there. Dean wasn't there for this part, but apparently Cas sat stoic all the way on the other side of the bar from his own father. Not a single word exchanged. 

Cas spent so long searching for his father, waiting for some answers, and he's just done. Dean gets it.

"If it was Chuck that would explain why I found this in my jeans." Sam pulls out a flat, red device, and flips it open. "It's a Pokedex," he explains.

"I don't even wanna know."

"I bet you have one too." Sam looks pointedly at Dean's boxers and bathrobe. 

There is a new weight in the pocket of the bathrobe, just below the dead guy's embroidered initials. Yep, there's a Pokedex. Whatever the hell that is. "Alright. I've had enough of this." Slapping his knees, Dean looks heavenward. "Oh great and neglectful-"

"Dude!" Sam hisses. 

"What? I'm being honest - fine, whatever, almighty and powerful Father upon high, and I guess your sister if she's around, we got some questions. Get your butts down here." Nothing happens. "After all I do for you-" Dean starts, but suddenly there's the sound of slamming doors and feet from the war room.

On the table is a bright blue turtle, standing on his hind legs.

Running down the stairs from the bunker entrance are the primordial siblings themselves. Amara's black evening dress really clashes with her red-and-white baseball cap, but there's a grim look in her eyes when she jumps down the last five steps and stalks toward the table. Behind her, Chuck is wearing a matching hat, albeit backwards. They're got freaking backpacks, and Amara has one of those red and white balls in her hands. "Pokeball, go!" she thunders, and hurls her ball at the turtle.

"You gotta weaken it first," Chuck says. "Remember what I told you?"

"Right."

"Squirtle," the turtle grunts.

"Uh. Guys?" Dean starts, but Chuck actually shushes him.

"Keep it down. Amara's about to catch her first Squirtle, okay?"

"Don't you shush me!"

"Dude," Sam whispers, grabbing him by the elbow. "It's a fucking Squirtle. Just... give them a second."

Amara has taken off her backpack and is rooting around, eyes still fixed on the giant turtle. "So I should use an Electric type? But Jolteon's a little overpowered for a Squirtle."

"Try a Grass type," Sam offers. Just for that, Dean steps on his foot.

"Good plan," Chuck says. "Don't you have a-"

"Exeggutor! I choose you!" Amara shouts, and now there's a fucking palm tree with faces standing on the god damn war room table and Dean is utterly, completely lost. It's actually kind of cool to watch, but Chuck and Amara are going to have to clean up the mess. As Exeggutor sends purple beams of light and Squirtle shoots jets of water, Dean goes to find a mop.

He stops by the bedroom first.

"Heya, Cas."

"Vee," says Eevee. She's curled up on Cas's belly. They're watching something on the laptop. Dean props the mop against the door and goes up on the bed, sitting cross-legged by Cas's feet.

"So. Uh. Your dad and aunt are having a Pokemon battle in the war room."

Cas just raises an eyebrow, and Dean tilts the laptop screen for him to look. It's some anime. A kid wearing the same hat Chuck and Amara had is cuddling a caterpillar. "I'm enjoying this series," Cas says. "And I'm learning quite a bit about Pokemon. Isn't that right, Eevee?"

"Okay. Just making sure you're good here."

"We're good."

Leaning forward, Dean gives him a quick kiss on the temple. Then another on the lips, until Eevee sticks her face up between them.

By the time he makes it back to the war room, Amara is actually hugging Squirtle. It's dripping all down her dress, but she's beaming and Chuck looks proud. Dean shoves the mop at him and gestures to the puddles of water. Chuck, the jerk, just snaps his fingers and the mess is gone. Pikachu claps his paws together, but Dean isn't impressed. Standing before the light and the darkness themselves, Dean crosses his arms and stares them down."We need to talk."

At least Amara has the grace to look ashamed.

Being ancient and all-powerful beings, it didn't take long for Chuck and Amara to beat the game. Whatever Sam is seeing on their matching smartphones, it must be impressive. He keeps freaking out about Gyradaros and Snorlax and Gengar and it all sounds like gibberish to Dean. "So you beat the game, and then just decided to... take it to the next level?" Sam asks. "That's... wow."

"Pretty much," Chuck shrugs.

"They're such strange and powerful creatures," Amara says, still holding Squirtle. "Out of all of my brother's creation, I have to say this is my favorite."

"See? She likes it." Throwing his feet up on the war table, Chuck looks smug. "I don't know why you're so pissed about it, Dean. I'm bringing world peace. Isn't that the kind of thing you always wanted?"

"World peace? With Pokemon?"

"Trust me," Chuck says, winking. "It'll all work out."

"Yeah, that's real reassuring." Noticing Chuck's wandering eye, Dean smirks. "Looking for somebody?"

"Is... um... is Castiel-?"

"Oh, he's around." Matching Chuck's pose, Dean throws his own feet up on the table. 

"Okay." Chuck bites his lip. "Is he-?"

"He's fine. He's got an Eevee."

"Right. Okay."

"There's a Bulbasaur somewhere around here," Amara cuts in.

"Guess you'd better go get it."

"Gotta catch 'em all, right?" Sam says, and Amara raises her chin proudly.

"I'm going to be the very best."

Damn, but she looks happy.

Chuck loops an arm around his sister, and - they're gone. 

Just like that. Dean finishes his beer, staring at Pikachu. Sam is playing with his Pokedex, looking equally uncomfortable. "It seems healthy for them, at least?" Sam finally offers.

"World peace, my ass."

"Not much we can do about it."

"I wouldn't even know where to start." Rubbing his eyes with his hands, Dean bows his head. Only to jump when something strokes his shoulder.

"Pikaaa," says Pikachu. 

"Whatever you say, man."

The thing is (and Dean will never admit it) Chuck might have been on to something. It seems the whole planet was just waiting for the new Pokemon world order. Wars seem silly when every conflict can be decided by a Pokemon battle. Once the United States decides all Pokemon should have free access to treatment at Pokecenters, humans are just the next logical step. Border restrictions are just a barrier to everyone's personal Pokemon quests, and the Church of Lugia seems a lot better than any other organized religion. For the first time, the entire of humanity is all working to a common goal.

The little monsters even contribute to society. Fire departments fill up with Squirtles and Vaporeons, hospitals are staffed with Chaunseys, and all of the ghosts they would normally be hunting are too busy laughing with Ghastly to go around killing people. Crowley and Rowena are the worst Pokemon trainers ever, but at least it keeps them occupied. Dean doesn't get Sam's Team Rocket jokes until he finally gives in to watch the cartoon with Cas. In fact, all of the demons and angels seem a lot more concerned with battling their respective Fire and Flying types against each other than messing around with humanity. There's no way Dean is gonna argue with that.

World peace via Pokemon. Of all the fucking things.

Pikachu does indeed fix all of the wiring at home, and Eevee gets Sam to finally shut up about how they could really use a dog around the bunker. Eevee likes to cuddle right between Dean and Castiel at night, though, which can get a little annoying. But she understands if sometimes they have to toss her off the bed.

When Dean finds his very own Geodude and subsequently watches it take down a werewolf, he has to admit. Pokemon are pretty dang cool.

Go ahead and add _Pokemon trainer_ to his resume.

 

**Author's Note:**

> comment and tell me what your favorite pokemon is
> 
> I know! I know Sam and Dean were a little too old to see the Pokemon craze in school but i dont care i am floating through space


End file.
